


nothing of this remains

by vesperthine



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Short One Shot, Smut, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 23:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17838341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesperthine/pseuds/vesperthine
Summary: She closes her eyes; the hairs on her arms raise when the nerve impulses scurry by. It prickles and tingles( – burns and vibrates and crackles like a firework of potential not yet reached – )when Eva pulls her closer, pushes a thigh between her legs.Noora puts her arms around her shoulders and sighs. Breathes. She’s never felt as alive as she does now





	nothing of this remains

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [ingenting av detta finns kvar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12746262) by [vesperthine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesperthine/pseuds/vesperthine). 



> translation of my first ever nooreva (which was a skandi smut as well!) written a late thursday night sometime last year. 
> 
> this is a translation that's done by me, and no beta reader, so all mistakes are my own. enjoy ♡

Snowflakes fall like crystals towards the biking lane. They make the whole world glisten. The winter wind blows straight through her coat, blouse and slacks, her breath turns to vapour in the air. Her legs shake, but she doesn’t dare to open her eyes.

Noora draws a breath. Swallows hard.

Perfume mixed with sweat, close enough to make its way up her nose, despite the air having been rinsed by the negatives. Warm _( – and sweet, with a hint of vanilla, feminine – )_ it folds and makes itself a home around her temple when she pushes her face into Eva’s long hair. She gasps, and then lets the air slip out of her at the same time as two hands part her blouse underneath her coat – and gentle teeth enclose her nipple.

They’ve ended up here. Again.

And there’s nowhere to run.

Not even if she wanted to.

The sensation of teeth, lips, tongue, brings with it a sense of vertigo. For a short second, she loses her breath. Reclaims it. Tips her head back against the tree trunk _( – scrambles for control like for sand through fingers – )._ Feels only the sharp tree bark against her scalp. Feels blood pulse in her lips, in her fingertips, between her legs.

She closes her eyes; the hairs on her arms raise when the nerve impulses scurry by. It prickles and tingles _( – burns and vibrates and crackles like a firework of potential not yet reached – )_ when Eva pulls her closer, pushes a thigh between her legs.

Noora puts her arms around her shoulders and sighs. Breathes. She’s never felt as alive as she does now and –

She’s never, ever, been this dripping wet.

Without even moving her hips, she can feel it. How everything has loosened up. Fallen off kilter. Gotten heavier. How it throbs, pulsates, and every time Eva’s teeth lightly graze her nipple, a shock like a spear shoots straight through her.

Causes her stomach to clench horizontally, and her frozen toes to curl in her shoes.

The world shrinks further when she involuntarily tenses another notch. Comes closer to the peak, at the same time as it gets a little harder not to pant and moan _( – uninhibited and free and out of control  – )._ Her cunt is throbbing badly now, and when Eva pushes her thigh further in between hers, harder, grinding, Noora buries her fingers in her shoulders and lets go of the breath crowding her lungs.

It transforms into a sigh on the way out.

Eva sucks a little harder with her beautiful mouth _( – soft lips, skilled tongue, all of which make her end up here, again and again – )_ before she lets up. Red-cheeked and panting. The light from the street lights conceals her in shadows; a dark silhouette of a nineteen-year-old woman.

Of no one special, really.

But Noora knows that mouth. Eva’s mouth. The glittering eyes. And that is everything that matters.

Because kissing Eva, that is like coming home.

Nothing is said. Eva is – as always – drunk, and Noora is – as always – as sober as they come, with a swollen cunt filled with blood and Eva’s soft tongue lightly, lightly touching hers. Sending small electric shocks with every little touch. Everything is softer here _( – in this wrinkle in time where everything halts for a while – )_ where they don’t have to talk about this.

About what it is. About definitions and references and reality.

The only thing that matters is that this is Eva and this is Noora and the rest, they deal with tomorrow.

Her belt _( – the black, worn, silver buckled one from the thrift store – )_ suddenly opens. Clinks in the night. Eva’s fingers, with short, bitten nails are cold as ice when they slink inside the hem of her underwear. But it doesn’t matter.

Not when two of them slide even further down and get just as scalding hot and wet as Noora herself.

A whine makes its way up her throat. Catches behind her wisdom teeth before Eva starts to drag her fingers sideways. Not roughly, but quick and with intent, she creates excruciating friction right across her clit and Noora can’t hold anything back.

She lets everything that fits inside of her come out on a breath _( – spread like clouds in the air – )_ before she kisses Eva again to keep it in place. Under some semblance of control. Grabs her waist, and pushes her against her body; from cold, stinging ankles to the hand she’s twined in her red hair.

She pushes her face against the soft, smooth skin on her neck. Breathes in. Smears lipstick on the scarf and moves her hips against Eva’s hand. With anyone else, it would feel exposing. As if she was looking for something she knew she would never get.

But Eva gives her that. More. Moulds herself after her, and Noora knows that when she comes _( – convulsing, panting, falling – )_ she will always stand there, catching her.

Until they tumble out of this wrinkle in time, and nothing of this remains.  


 


End file.
